Redfish Hunter Goes West!

[Redfish Hunter]

When we started out this morning I had zero desire to even attempt breakfast at the hotel. I had seen a nearby steakhouse that advertised a breakfast and we gave that a shot. It started off a little shaky but ended up being well worth it. A good breakfast can go a long way. During the meal I surprised both of my co-riders with a count of days gone. It did not seem to have been a whole week to them. We were all struggling to process the many things we had seen. Our minds were overloaded with the incredible scenery and our accomplishments.

We pointed our noses East and began our Journey Home.

Hwy 98 between Page and Hwy 160 is a road I never read or hear anything about. Yet it is a beautiful road with lots of scenery and some very nice curves. The problem is that it is bookended with some spectacular places and gets overlooked. In any other place Hwy 98 would rank very highly as a motorcycle road.

Things like this:



Zoomed:



Hwy 98 has some different colors to offer. I was enjoying my little joke with David and kept repeating at the perfect time, "Aww, that's nothing. You see one red rock you've seen 'em all." The contrasting colors of this area were quite pleasant.

Things stay good after you turn NW on Hwy 160. I considered a visit to Navajo National Monument but figured that David was tired of walking. Mostly because at supper the previous evening he had said, "I am DONE walking"...

Once east of Kayenta though, there is not much to hold your attention. A couple of interesting rock formations on the South side of the hwy, then just dry, red sand and rock.

I was fascinated that everywhere we went there were fences. These fences ran alongside pretty much every stretch of open (non-mountain) highway we traveled. They were the most determined and industrious fence building folks I have ever heard of. I cannot imagine the land being worth what the fence cost in some cases. And they will keep it straight as an arrow over whatever obstacle arises. I could not understand the motivation for this. What really got me was that it would be stretched over solid rock. If any of you have ever driven a T-post into the ground, these pics are for you.





The speed run across Arizona had sapped the energy from all of us. We played it safe in Cortez CO and opted for the Chinese Buffet at the Hunan we had eaten at before. I was amazed at the quality and taste of the Chinese food in this out of the way place. Our time in the AC was much appreciated as well.

We pointed our noses east on Hwy 160, headed for Durango...

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Here I go whining again... Does Colorado law prohibit the use of Cruise Control in an automobile? I know that the ride up Hwy 160 had taken it out of us and we were all getting grouchy. The road between Cortez and Durango would have been enjoyable had it not been for the other vehicles. I did not want to drive fast, I just wanted to do the speed limit. Consistently.

I did appreciate a Ducati Monster pilot headed in the opposite direction. He signaled us that LEO presence was close, and it was. I waved at the two Colorado State Troopers as we went by. Exactly at the posted limit.

When we reached Durango I had a very unpleasant duty to fulfill. Folks, the biggest racket going in the motorcycle world is found at the Harley dealer. No, not the bikes. The accursed T-shirts. They have the name of the town/city on them and that lets other Harley riders know that you trailered your bike to that area.

Sorry, too easy.

Anyway, you cannot get one for less than $30 apiece. You can easily go over $50. For a T-shirt. I had to buy 3. But, I had help. You will never understand what I went through in that Harley shop. I suffered. Here is proof.



Yes, I know the pic is crappy. Two things went wrong here. First, she wiggled at the critical moment. This caused a disturbance in the force...
Second, I was unable to get from the iPhone to photobucket to here. I had to take a pic of the pic then to photobucket to here. GRRRR!

Cousin David had refused to go into the Harley shop. He lay down in the shade of a nearby porch. When I told him I had spent over $100 on 3 T-shirts, he was disgusted. "You should have consulted with a grown up before you did that."

One of the salesmen tried to interest Pop in a Harley. They were wasting their time.

Now, North. Hwy 550. The Million Dollar Highway.

 

[puppychow]

Email it to yourself from the iPhone. Although, she does look a bit butterface...you know butterface? As in ... damn look at that body... but her face...

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Sam, that is exactly what I did. Yet, my ability to fail is so well developed...

I know, she was not perfect. Neither am I for that matter. But, she really was super nice and very helpful. She was also very disturbing in the close confines of the clothing aisles.

 

[gixxerjasen]

Cousin David had refused to go into the Harley shop. He lay down in the shade of a nearby porch. When I told him I had spent over $100 on 3 T-shirts, he was disgusted. "You should have consulted with a grown up before you did that."

He might ride a Hondapotomus but this boy sounds like the smart one of the group.

 

[puppychow]

Sam, that is exactly what I did. Yet, my ability to fail is so well developed...
I know, she was not perfect. Neither am I for that matter. But, she really was super nice and very helpful. She was also very disturbing in the close confines of the clothing aisles.

Email, download to PC, Upload to PB.

Yes, personality can add a lot and no one is perfect. You made me deservedly feel a little bad for being mean but I don't know what you mean by she was very disturbing...

 

[dcarver]

RFH should have gone with the pocket gurrl!

 

[Dudewado]

I'm betting she's sold a lot of T-Shirts.

And look; She keeps a box of Kleen-ex handy.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

This is going to be my 1000th post on this forum. That makes it kinda special for me.

Where does a dream begin? What sparks the imagination of a child? For each of us it is something different, something unique that lights a fire down in our hearts. Perhaps that fire will burn itself out over time, perhaps it just smolders waiting years or even decades for That Moment when The Dream becomes reality. Will Reality ever compare to the Dream?

For me 1980 was a great time. I was 10 years old, Dad was shopping for a Motorcycle. I had brochures on every single motorcycle sold in the U.S. I had most of them memorized. Mom would buy all of the motorcycle magazines our local grocery store stocked and I read them cover to cover. Somewhere in that pile of paper was an article on riding The Million Dollar Highway. There was mention of The Durango to Silverton Narrow Gauge Railway. The description of the curves, the views, the power loss of the carbureted bikes at altitude. Heady stuff for a boy riding a Honda MR50 at sea level.

A few years later Kawasaki introduced a bike called the Voyager 1200. It looked just like the '84 GoldWing Dad had finally bought. They put out a Sales Brochure complete with their own article on the Million Dollar Highway. Would I ever see it? Would I ever have the money to just jump on Dad's GoldWing and go?

Fast Forward. I am 43 years old. The old MR50 is a rusting dust covered relic. I totaled the GoldWing back in '95. But I am here and there is the road.

Traffic in Durango was horrific. Then when we started easing out of that, there was the rain. The rain had finally gotten ahead of me. We stopped, geared up and headed north. I was barely able to control my excitement. Yet... Pop was not happy. He was tired, he was grouchy, his back was hurting. The speed run across Arizona had taken its toll on all of us, plus this was our 8th day on the road. At Coal Bank Pass there was a light, cold rain falling and we were all a bit nervous on that twisty road. Pop went from "not happy" to "what the hell are we doing here?"



I wandered around, took a couple pics, miserable. Is this how a dream dies? In a cold rain on a lonely mountain pass?



A married couple pulled up, him on a black FJR, her on a mid-size BMW sport-tourer. Friendly folks, he said he was not a Forum member, oh wait he might be, he wasn't sure.

We continued and I pulled into the Andrews Lake rec area partly in the hope that the tight little road through the bushes would revive Pop and David, partly so I could see it for myself. Of course, Pop was fussing about how tight it was... I could feel my heart shrinking in my chest.





We got caught in the twistiest section behind a horse trailer full of Llamas. I guess that makes it a Llama trailer. We wound up all the way to Montrose in the same hotel we had stayed in before, we ate the same McDonald's supper as before, and we washed our clothes.

Pop revived somewhat and he knew on some level I was in a bind. He and David were discussing the road and its dangers while I wanted to look at the positives. When I told them, almost truthfully, that the Million Dollar Highway was the only reason I ever considered this trip in the first place, they were shocked. I guess I kept my cards hidden too carefully. Funny, I share the truth with all of you yet I did not confide in my Best Friend. I suppose I got what I deserved.

We decided that tomorrow would bring another day. I offered to route us back on other, straighter roads to our east. Dad said no, we'll be better in the morning. Of course, we were all sick with runny snouts, coughs and stopped up heads by this time courtesy of the dry heat and Arizona's red dust. So "better" is a relative term.

 

[Burnspot]

RFH, funny, my final "progress post" on my RR today was number 1000, lol.

Agreed on Durango...most of the "tourist" towns in CO that I hit were snarled, hot messes of traffic and pedestrians and I never hung out longer than I really needed to. Coal Bank Pass seemed like a popular spot for the "I gotta pee....now!" crowd coming up from Durango since there are facilities there...at least that's what I observed while pausing there for a bit.

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Sunday 7/14/13

Dawn broke cloudy and overcast. All 3 of us have plugged snouts and are miserable. I was strapping my luggage to the ST when I decided to ride across the highway in search of Cold Medicine. I was already committed when I realized I had not brought my helmet out yet. I was so miserable that I rode without my helmet. Less than 1/2 mile total, what a miserable feeling. I cannot get comfortable on a motorcycle without a helmet.

Another breakfast at the same mediocre Denny's brought on a pretty good breakfast conversation. David started things off with a very simple, "Don't worry about me today. Just wait for me at the end." I looked at him and he said, "I mean it. I have ridden behind you for thousands of miles. That is your road. It's got your name all over it. And this old man here, he can gripe all he wants to, he likes to lean that Yamaha. He needs to play this morning. You both do." A very long speech for him, I had nothing to say.

Pop said that he was a little intimidated by that road. It had him kind of jittery the day before in all that rain.
"Ain't rainin' today. You already did your sight-seeing, just ride it today. I won't lie, it's kind of intimidating when you look over at the edge and there just ain't nothin' there. On a motorcycle you go where you look and it's almost impossible not to look at that edge."

After a good discussion our breakfast seemed to taste better. We headed south to Ridgway and fueled up.

An old mail car. Still faster than most of the Harleys we saw...



The sun was starting to peek out, the clouds were disappearing and it felt like the weight was lifting from my heart. Dances with Rain was starting to tug at the bit...





A funny thing, by this time awesome as the scenery was, we were not taking many pics. Sensory Overload I called it.





As for Pop and I on the Million Dollar Highway, it was great. I am always aware that I am responsible for setting the pace. I try to keep Pop slowed down just enough. We did not act too foolish but we did fully enjoy ourselves. He got to lean his Yamaha, and I got to ride my road.

They tell me that history does not give us a definite reason for how the Million Dollar Highway got its name. They say it is because it cost a million dollars a mile to build. They say it is because there is a million dollars in gold ore in the rock they blasted out to build it. I don't know. I do know that I would not trade a Million Dollars for the memory of riding that wonderful road with Pop right behind me on that FJR.

Oh, FWIW, David had a great time as well. He told us later that nothing else we had ever done impressed him like that road.

 

[dcarver]

I wandered around, took a couple pics, miserable. Is this how a dream dies? In a cold rain on a lonely mountain pass?

No, it doesn't!

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Here, I want to do some meanness. I usually don't really unleash on the internet for a variety of reasons, but this time, I am not holding back. You may remember that at the end of my post on supper at Pagosa Springs, I flat out dogged the Hog's Breath Saloon and BBQ. You may also recall HotRodZilla saying he got up and walked out it was so bad. I was waiting for this post to finish this up.

We hit Pagosa Springs right at lunchtime. We were hot, tired from the aftermath of the Million Dollar Highway and wanted a decent lunch. Why not give the Hog's Breath another shot? I was so stupid...

I could go into all the details but let me say that the Stupidity Contest that went on in that building pushed me right up to the point of physical violence. I was ready to do whatever it took to get out of there without paying for the food that had never gotten to my table. The Hog's Breath would not survive two weeks in any other location. If I can ever help it, Pagosa Springs in general will never see another dime from me, that is how bad I hate everything associated with those idiots at the Hog's Breath.

Moving right along...

After leaving Pagosa Springs, still hungry, trying to keep things under control and get mine and Pop's heart rate back down, we had rain all around us. Somehow, every time we thought we were going to go right into the rain, the road magically turned the other way. This helped more than anything to get our focus back on the fun of our trip.

I did not go into great detail about Hwy 64 through Hopewell pass going in, let me fix that now. Hwy 64 does not have perfect surfaces. The pavement could use some work. But oh man! If smooth loooong sweepers are your thing, this beautiful stretch of road is for you. Everything between Chama on the West and Hwy 285 on the East is just a piece of heaven. Well, except for...

Soon after the road started getting exciting, I heard through my headset the TINK! of something hitting Dad's visor. This was followed by a muffled curse. I chuckled to myself and then it happened again a few seconds later. What's going on? Pop says it is "Big Hard Bugs of some sort. I think you are kicking them up with your tires." Nonsense. He must be imagining things. Then, "Dammit son what are you kicking up on me?" Wow, he must be really suffering from missing lunch, I think.

I shifted my feet on my pegs, dipping my toes down to catch the breeze and WhatTheHellisTHAT? Things were hitting my feet at an astonishing rate! I start looking very closely at the road ahead and finally see what it is. GRASSHOPPERS! By the THOUSANDS! I pull over at the next pull-off and I am greeted with two astonishingly filthy motorcycles. I still have no answer for why I have no pictures of this but the FJR and the GoldWing were in awful shape. As the lead bike I got all mine down low around the radiator and lower fairing. Not so Dad and David. We rode the rest of that road a little differently. Dad and I rode side by side in formation like two cops. Ponch and Baker from CHiPs maybe? David let us get a big lead on him and followed way back there. "Somehow they know to hit me on my forehead between my glasses and my helmet." he said. "I know they are doing it on purpose."

We made it back to the Rio Grande Gorge and found things somewhat greener than we had left them the week before. We laughed because I was bringing even more rain to that parched land.

Proof of my power over the rain:



We crawled through Taos again. I have to laugh when I think about it.

518 out of Taos headed South to Mora is magical. Really.

That is where the rain caught us. And it got cold. So, we got wet and cold. Pop pointed out to me that David was back there wearing just a T-shirt, he might want to pull over and put on something warmer, so I obliged. When I walked over to David he said, "Well thanks for stopping. It don't matter anymore, I already HAVE hypothermia. Do you know what that is? That is when you FREEZE to death!"

I asked him politely if he would like to put on some sleeves or should we just keep riding. He put on some sleeves.



We took 518 through some really nice country. We went through Mora, then turned south on 518 to Las Vegas New Mexico. That part of the road is straight but it is fine. We kept expecting/hoping we would see an elk, but we never did.

We got rooms at the Comfort Inn @ Las Vegas. A really nice set of rooms for not much money. We all got a laugh in the parking lot watching some guys load a GoldWing and a Cruiser onto a trailer. They had Texas plates. Shameful. I wish I had gotten pics.

It was raining and we needed supper. Right up the road was a place called Pinos. It looked like a Mexican Restaurant from 1972. The food was AWESOME! Pop is not fond of Mexican food. After we ate at Pinos he understood what I meant when I kept telling him to try REAL Mexican food. I was so impressed with the area around Las Vegas NM that I told my companions I would like to come back there and just ride that area for a week. Who knows when...

 

[Redfish Hunter]

Monday 7/15/13

Radar shows rain to North, West, and South. Clear to the East which is our intended path. We settle for the hotel breakfast and I immediately mess up the waffle iron. Still don't understand how it stuck so bad. The few other guests that were up and awake at that time were giving me ugly looks. As you all know already, I have a very ugly look myself. I did not need theirs.

Radar was wrong. We stayed in a light to medium rain for the first 70 or so miles of the day. Hwy 104 back to Tucumcari was just as nice as when we came in but with some distinct differences.

The cloud cover was only about 10 to 20 feet over our heads. On some small rises we were in the cloud.





How are you guys enjoying this hot, dry desert?



A short rest at Conchas State Park again.

The soft and cuddly:



The not so soft and cuddly:



We rolled out of the rain and through Tucumcari, working our way back South and East. Hwy 287 in Texas did not have the wind that had worn us down on this leg before. It stayed cloudy and threatening rain but that kept it cool. We never got over 88 degrees all day. A few miles north of Wichita Falls we pulled into a picnic area because the heavy rain was definitely blocking our path. We geared up.

Well, I say we. Remember how dumb I am right? I decided that it was a fairly narrow band and we would be through it quickly. I just closed (carefully and thoroughly) all of the zippers and vents on the Tourmaster Transition Series 3 and stayed in my jeans. Why? Why did I not put on my rain pants?

129 steady, never out of the rain miles later we made it to Sherman, TX. It never stopped raining, never. The Tourmaster leaked at both shoulder vents and for sure 3 of the 4 chest vents. I have no idea why. I am completely disgusted with the thing. And I loved that jacket up to that point.

We were tired, sick, cold and wet. We ordered Domino's Delivery, split a pizza, hot wings, bread sticks and a Philly Cheese Steak. Yummy! Not.

We had clothes hanging all over that hotel room. But we were no longer in the desert, so nothing dried out over night.

Tuesday 7/16/13

Last day. Are we happy to be close to home? Are we happy it is over? Why is it that tempers start to strain at this point in a trip? Is there some conflict of emotion between the desire to return to family and home and the desire to stay on the bike, to see what is around the next bend?

Or is it simply that we are tired as hell?

We were getting back into the wet heat of Louisiana and the rain was everywhere. We avoided it until about an hour from home and our encounter was all too brief. Exciting though as it was quite a hard rain.

We parted ways first with David. He was happy, proud, pleased. He knew that he had seen and done things that the "Big Time Hard Core Harley Riders" back home had never experienced and never would. He knew that he had long since graduated from the group he initially started riding with.

The West leaves you...Different. Or maybe it never really "leaves" you. Some part of that stillness of the mountains remains. The memory of those awful distances... The West, well you either already know or I can't explain it here anyway.

I got Pop back home. A glass of Mom's iced tea, a few minutes toting his bags inside because I knew he was sick (and tired), then we too parted ways.

I still don't know who owes what money to whom. Probably never will.

My son took this for me when I rolled in:



The End




For Now...

 

[Niehart]

Well done, Redfish Hunter, well done!

 

[gixxerjasen]

Fantastic, I'm quite jealous sir.

 

[Burnspot]

Nicely done Redfish!

 

[Dudewado]

Totally thorough ride report. I loved it all.

I especially identified with your dreams as a youngster, aspiring to ride the magical "Million Dollar Highway".

As my (former) Canadian friend says, "Good On Ya".

When I was a kid in Memphis, tooling around on my mighty Honda CB350, I too had dreams. I wanted to be able to strap camping gear on a bike and take off to ride the roads and

see the things I read about; Yosemite, Highway 1, The Icefields Parkway.

Many years later, after keeping those dreams in the back of my mind while struggling to grow up, (Still Trying!), make my way in the world, raise a family, etc. I bought the FJR and made it so.

And, the adventure continues.

Hope I get to meet you someday on the road.

 

[steve_g]

Awsome writing, loved every minute!

Thanks for sharing.

 

[escapefjrtist]

Most excellent ride report 'hunter!

Thanks for sharing the trip with us.

--G